Rekindled Echoes (OC x Finnick Odair)

Chapter 3

The interview room exuded an otherworldly glow as Obsidian and I awaited our turn to face Caesar Flickerman. The Capitol lights bathed us in an ethereal aura, casting an illusion of glamour over the impending horror of the Hunger Games. Obsidian's stoic presence beside me offered a silent reassurance as many of my thoughts caused a turbulence in my mind.

As we were called to the stage, I felt a surge of determination coursing through my veins. My lithe frame and piercing gaze became weapons of resilience against the impending darkness. Obsidian and I exchanged a brief glance, acknowledging the unspoken connection that had developed between us in the quiet moments leading up to this pivotal interview.

Caesar Flickerman, with his flamboyant persona, welcomed us with enthusiasm as I took my seat. The Capitol audience, hungry for drama, erupted into applause at the mention of District 6. I maintained a composed exterior, my demeanor a carefully crafted facade to navigate the Capitol's insatiable appetite for spectacle.

"Calisto Wintersong from District Six!" Caesar announced, his voice echoing through the room. The crowd's fervor heightened, and I couldn't help but appreciate the fleeting moments of adulation before the inevitable descent into the brutal reality of the Games.

Caesar's questions began, and I responded with a grace that concealed the turbulence within. I spoke of survival, of the strength that emerged from the shadows of District 6. The Capitol audience, ensnared by the illusion I presented, hung on to my every word.

When the focus shifted to Obsidian, I observed him with a silent curiosity. His answers, veiled in the persona of a shadowy guardian, resonated with the Capitol's fascination for enigma. 

As the interview delved into our strategies for the arena, I couldn't help but let my gaze linger on Obsidian. In those stolen glances, the uncharted territory of conflicting emotions and the complexities of survival unfolded. The Capitol, always attuned to the subtleties of the tributes, sensed the undercurrents of something more profound.

Caesar skillfully navigated the conversation, extracting narratives that would resonate with the Capitol's desire for entertainment. The interview became a delicate dance, a performance where every word held the potential to shape our narrative in the eyes of the Capitol audience.

In the final moments on stage, Caesar turned to us with a theatrical flourish in our individual interviews. 

"Calisto, any last words for your devoted fans? 

"Obsidian, any last words for your devoted fans?"

With the weight of the looming Games pressed upon us, our gazes met... 

"We are not just tributes; we are your beloved... We will show why District 6 should be feared..." I declared, a note of defiance in my voice that resonated through the room.

Obsidian followed suit, his words echoing the silent strength we aimed to embody. "In the arena, the Capitol will witness that even the most forgotten have the power to defy atrocities committed by the career districts in previous games."

As the applause thundered,we shared a final, fleeting glance. The interview had concluded, but the true test awaited us in the arena—a treacherous battleground where the illusions of the Capitol collided with the unyielding spirit of the tributes from District 6.

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...

...

The arena unfolded before me like a nightmarish dreamscape, a sprawling canvas of danger and uncertainty. The deafening echoes of the countdown filled the air, and as the gong reverberated, I sprinted into the wilderness, my senses heightened by the primal instinct to survive.